Typical Day in The Mall
by Jess McIntosh
Summary: John Winchester reflects on his two jobs while watching his sons in a mall food court.


Typical Day In the Mall Typical Day In the Mall By Jess MacIntosh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Supernatural characters and I am not making any money from this.

Summary: John Winchester reflects on his two jobs while watching his boys in a mall food court.

It was a typical Saturday afternoon in the mall. It was full. Full of shoppers, walkers, giggling pre-teens, flirting older teens, families on an outing, many moms with excited youngsters, a few fathers with their kids, giving Mom a break for a few hours, or enjoying their one weekend a month with their off-spring.

In a quiet back corner of the food court, a dark-haired man sat with his two sons. There were plates of pizza, burgers, fries on the table in front of them, but the two boys weren't interested in eating.

John Winchester sipped at his Coke, relaxed more than he had been in days. He'd learned a little about what he was hunting, would learn more in the up-coming week; but right now he was content to sit and watch his boys. Right now it felt so good to be just another dad on just another typical day at the mall.

Sammy, the youngest, a toddler of nineteen months, was enjoying a game with his brother. Sammy would squirm off his booster seat, run in his awkward, uneven gait, arms flapping like he was trying for lift-off, until he came to another table of people.

"Hi!" he would exclaim happily, his toothy grin stretching from ear to ear, dimples exploding, bright eyes friendly, and no one could resist replying "Hi!"

Then his just-turned-six brother would trudge up behind him, pretending to be exasperated, his pride shinning through the pretense, although he did not know this himself.

"Sorry" he would say to the strangers. "Sammy, say bye-bye and come with me."

"Bye-Bye!" Sammy would chirp, waving a chubby hand, and then turn to run after his brother squealing "Dee! Dee! Dee!"

Then Dean would help him back into his booster seat and try to get him to eat.

John watched, amused. Dean, showing off his little brother, like he was a puppy with a cute trick, proud of the way no one could resist Sammy's sweet baby face, and not noticing at all the way people smiled at him, too.

They could play this game for a while, and John let them, never taking his eyes off them, but satisfied to be Dad for a while, not the fierce guardian he usually was.

Sammy was always going a little bit further, trying to reach somewhere a little more distant, and John wondered when his youngest would realize there was no place he could go that Dean wouldn't come after him. It probably gave Sammy the security he needed to stretch his boundaries, and it gave John a lot of the security he needed, too, to know Dean would always go after Sam and bring him back.

John was always tired these days. The burning rage for revenge had simmered into a cold determination, the research sucking energy much more than the fight. The sheer enormity of what he was up against...

Finally John shook his finger at Sammy, as he prepared to get down for another run, and said "No"

Daddy's "No" meant No, not like Dean's "No" which meant "Sure, Sammy, just show me some sad eyes and a quivering lip and you can do whatever you want to."

Sammy mulled this over, sticking his lower lip out, almost deciding on fussing, when Dean dipped a french fry in the catsup and popped it in his brother's mouth.

Fussing forgotten, he chewed happily, showing John his red-smeared teeth and John frowned, some thought tugging at his mind...

Sammy then picked up a fry, smashed it around in the catsup, and held it out to Dean, who obligingly took it in his mouth. Sammy crowed with laughter, clapping his hands, and made up one for Daddy, who leaned over and took it with his teeth. Both the boys laughed at that.

John sat back and watched the boys feed each other; fries, pickles, pieces of pepperoni...

Dean spoiled Sammy, there was no doubt about it. Coddled him. Well, John thought, he doesn't have a mother to do it, and I can always step in and straighten him out when he needs it.

Sammy was a bull-headed little guy, nothing like Dean had been. Dean had been unusually reasonable, still was. If something were explained to him, he would listen. Sammy, on the other hand, was too busy, always too determined on his goal, to listen to anything.

And the few times John had resorted to applying an open palm to a diaper-padded bottom, causing a howl of indignation instead of pain, Dean had puffed up like a blowfish.

"DaaD" he would say, in a voice so like a pissed-off Mary's that it would make John smile, and gasp with pain at the same time. "Sammy is just a BABY."

Dean was so like Mary, with his fair, freckled skin and ash-blond hair, the green eyes bright as traffic lights. Her smile, her dimples, a lively air of mischief...it hurt sometimes to look at him, yet John could barely take his eyes off his oldest, who adored him much like Mary had, accepting his faults because they were both blind to most of them.

Yes, Sammy got the stubborn Winchester streak from some not-too-distant relative on the male side of the family, John smiled ruefully.

But the toddler was sweet-natured, gentle, generous, there was Mary again—

Sometimes John wondered if his life _before_ could have possibly been as beautiful, as wonderful and secure as he remembered it.

Then he wondered if the horrors he was coming face to face with now could possibly be as ugly and terrifying and as _real_—

John squared his jaw and decided again, no matter what, he was keeping his family together. He still had a job to do, and the more he learned the more he felt it would take his lifetime to accomplish it, but he would keep his boys with him. All he had left of family. All he had left of Mary. He could, and he would, protect them.

They would stay together, he vowed.

I can do both. I can be what I have to be, and I can be just Dad on a typical day in the mall. I can do it. Both. Hunter. Father.

It wasn't impossible. Surely, it wasn't impossible.

Sammy pulled away from Dean, who was trying to wipe his hands clean with a napkin. Squealing with joy, he clambered down from his seat again, trotting to the nearest table.

"Hi! Hi!"

Dean prepared to go after him, but paused to look at John, his eyes shinning.

"Dad, don't you think my Sammy is the cutest kid in the world?"

"_Our_ Sammy" John corrected. Dean still waited.

John nodded, in apparent agreement, and Dean ran after his brother.

But John thought "Almost, Dean. Almost."

"Bye Bye" He heard Sammy saying. "Bye Bye"


End file.
